


Blood Rush

by gryffindorJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Death Eaters, First War with Voldemort, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Inferi, Kissing, M/M, Rimming, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorJ/pseuds/gryffindorJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius has found that since leaving school there is a little less of a specific kind of excitement in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Rush

The thrill was gone. Not the thrill. Remus was still a demon in the bedroom — and the sitting room, and the kitchen, and the shower, and in the occasional alley — or there'd been that time at James's when... Remus was a fantastic shag and Sirius would never say or think otherwise. So it wasn't that which was gone, but more like the pre-thrill. 

Sirius was glad to be done with school but on occasion he still missed Hogwarts. Never the classes, or the exams, or the getting out of his bed on a bollocks-freezing winter morning because he had to go to another stupid class or pretend like an exam meant something in his life. 

What he missed about their school days, more than anything else, was the opportunity for mischief. He liked very much living with Remus in their bed-sit that masqueraded as a flat by virtue that they had their own bathroom, but other than Remus in his bed there wasn't much else Sirius needed. He tried to pull good pranks when inspiration would strike. He'd even planned out a couple of very solid ideas with James. Remus, though, had lived with him for seven years already and claimed to know how Sirius's 'wickedly clever and dirty' brain worked. Remus would either sniff out the prank before it was executed or react in a very unsurprised sort of way. It really took the joy out of the joke if, when the shelves all collapsed the moment Remus took out his favourite mug for tea, that Remus's reaction was to simply wave his wand and fix it all. He could have screamed, even a little bit, if only to please Sirius. But he hadn't. 

Sirius had other ideas but they were always too mean-spirited to use on anyone he liked. Sometimes he wished there were great packs of Slytherins about so he could execute those plans but then there would be great packs of Slytherins around and a good laugh wasn't really worth that.

Laughing was good and a nice part of a prank but Sirius still had plenty in his life that amused him. What he didn't have was the anticipation and execution of the prank.

He missed hiding in some alcove, waiting crouched in a terribly uncomfortable position, his knee jiggling and wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers as his eyes burned and watered from staring hard at his watch waiting for the seconds to tick by and for the time to arrive for him to act. He missed the feeling of running flat out to get back to Gryffindor Tower, his heart pounding in his ears and his lungs burning from effort but adrenaline pushing him faster. 

What he missed more was hiding with Remus, the two of them pressed together in an alcove or a broom cupboard —anywhere would do. How acutely aware he would feel in those moments of everything about Remus: the scent of his hair, the sound of his breathing — always a little slower than Sirius's — the way he would shift his back when he was uncomfortable, trying to stretch it. Even when it was all four of them squeezed in some place without a light, Sirius could still sense Remus. Where he was in the cramped room. He would feel the secret touch of Remus's hand on his back, or leg, and then the way Remus would hook one finger through one of the belt loops of Sirius's trousers. Those touches with everyone around but only shared between them would make Sirius feel like he was already running at break-neck speed back to the safety of the common room. 

What he missed the most was when the prank had been executed and they were all running together. They naturally would split up; better to confuse a pursuer by having multiple groups than to have the whole lot of them in trouble, and James's bloody cloak wasn't big enough to hide them all. Peter was always far too happy to run with James and the safety of that cloak. That hadn't bothered bother Remus and Sirius, especially now in hindsight. 

Sirius remembered fondly the way that Remus would come to a sudden halt to check around a corner and Sirius would slam into him, almost toppling them both to ground. Or, when they were running for all they were worth, how Sirius would outstrip Remus, especially on the stairs. Remus's hand would skitter across Sirius's shirt or his arse as he tried to reach for him to keep up. Then Sirius would turn and grab Remus's hand to pull him forward, to keep him going. 

The feel of Remus's sweaty hand desperately gripping his. The way his breath came short and sharp and one of them would trip and they would steady each other. And being out of breath, his limbs aching with effort, the thrum of the blood in his veins—those were all nothing compared to the ache of his cock. He would be hard as a rock, feeling like he would come if so much as a strong breeze brushed against him. 

How many times they had taken a detour and not made it back to Gryffindor Tower, Sirius didn't know. One of them would pull the other some different way and then suddenly they would be in an empty classroom, loo or cupboard , breath still coming fast, hearts still pounding as they kissed and touched each other. Sirius remembered the time his hands shook undoing Remus's trousers, not because he was nervous but because his body couldn't stop. He remembered the times when it was only kissing, and the times when it was more. Rubbing off on each other till they both came in their pants. The first time Remus was bold enough to put his hand down Sirius's pants or tell Sirius he wanted his arse. 

It wasn't the thrill of getting caught, it was the thrill of a new victory. It was that they had done the impossible again and escaped together. Mischief and triumph were like a drug to Sirius's already out-of-control lust. His head would spin so that he almost felt as if he'd left his body completely, and then Remus would do something like bend him over a desk and enter his arse with one quick thrust and Sirius would be grounded again. Soaking in and revelling in the joys of their accomplishments in the best sort of way. 

That was the thrill that was gone. 

Sirius stabbed his spoon moodily into his Weetabix, which wasn't appropriately soggy yet, and wondered if he really needed the thrill. He could certainly get it up. He was hardly nineteen, for Merlin's sake. Though Sirius did have the feeling that nineteen or a hundred and nineteen, he'd still get a nice boner by merely thinking about Remus, let alone looking at him. 

Sirius looked over at Remus, curled up in their bed. It had been a long night and Remus was still sleeping off the after-effects of the full moon. But even now, knowing Remus was exhausted and achy, seeing the curve of his arse covered in blankets was enough to stir Sirius's cock. He'd wanked when he'd woken less than thirty minutes ago, but that didn't matter — he was still interested. 

Maybe that was what he needed. He always enjoyed the full moon and the next morning, easing the pain of transformation. Touching Remus's tight muscles, soothing his discomfort was like slowly unknotting a rope until he was once again pliable in Sirius's hands. Sirius would be hard the entire time he touched Remus's body felt his nakedness with his bare hands. It wasn't about getting off, those times, but Sirius still wanted to. Then Remus would wake up and he always would insist on touching Sirius back and relief would wash over Sirius as he could finally relieve his aching balls and come. 

Sirius left his breakfast and walked back over to the bed. He slipped in behind Remus, pulled him close, and spooned him. Remus stirred and uttered a muffled groan. 

“Shhh,” Sirius whispered as he slowly began to massage Remus across the chest, oil slicking his efforts.

Sirius was already hard and ready to go, and nice as it was, it still wasn't the same. 

***

 

“What a fucking wank.” 

“What was that?” Remus said, straightening up from looking into a sewer pipe. 

“Wank,” Sirius said, holding up his hand and making the gesture to go with it. 

“Now? You really need one? Right before we left wasn't enough?” 

“No, not tossing off. I meant –” Sirius began, but then he caught the look on Remus's face. He looked appropriately serious, as if they were really going to meet Death Eaters around the next corner, but Sirius knew him too well. He could see the way his eyes had narrowed the tiniest bit because his cheeks had risen slightly in a not-quite-vain effort to repress a grin. Sirius shoved him playfully. “You heard what I said.” 

Remus dropped his guise and laughed. It was a damp night, of course, but even through the rain, which had become was more of a mist , Sirius could see the amusement twinkle in Remus's eyes. 

More than anything in the world Sirius loved making Remus laugh. Making James laugh was easy; it was like making himself laugh. Their senses of humour were so inexplicably linked it was one sense of humour, not two. Naturally Remus found the same things funny they did, one reason they were all such fast friends, but he was less prone to laughter. At least he would be until Sirius got his hands on him, so to speak. But to this day when Remus was happy Sirius was happy, and seeing him lighten so when they were on their first Order mission on their own made Sirius feel like maybe he did need a wank. 

“Moony, let's go home,” Sirius said, now thinking that maybe more than a wank was in order. “They're not here. The information was crap.” 

“You think?” Remus's brow wrinkled and he slid his top teeth across is bottom lip in contemplation. Sirius knew this was his usual 'thinking face' but he wanted to run his own teeth across that lush, delicious bottom lip. 

“Yes. We've been here two hours. It's so bloody cold not even your warming charms are working. This stupid rain –” 

“You don't think the fog's a product of Dementors mating?” Remus asked in all seriousness. 

The idea that it was Dementors mating and therefore Sirius had been walking around in their spunk the whole damn night hadn't crossed his mind. “Fuck.” Sirius tossed his head to shake the droplets out of his thick hair and grabbed the front of his cloak to wipe his face. 

“I didn't say I thought it was Dementors mating, but it could be a possibility,” Remus said with a note of amusement in his voice. “All that rain earlier means this has to be a mist, not a Dementor fog.” 

“You know how to tell the difference?” 

Remus shrugged and said, “No. Only guessing.” 

“Still gross. Let's go. There's nothing here. There are no Death Eaters showing up tonight. We got some bad information. No point freezing our cocks off anymore.” 

“I'm not sure,” Remus said, looking around and the silent town. “Dumbledore did say stay until sunrise.” 

“That's five hours away,” Sirius protested. “Who makes plans to torture Muggles in a seven-hour window? They can't be more exact about it? We already checked on those two families outside the village and they're fine. All their defence spells are up to date. If there are giants coming then they've made a good job of hiding it all the way up the coast. No giant pops into this part of Wales without being noticed first.” 

Remus looked hesitant. This was the first mission he'd been given, specifically. The first mission he and Sirius had been sent on alone. Sirius knew it was important to him that the job be done expertly, because Remus wanted to be trusted and given more responsibility. Sirius always found himself naturally in charge of a lot of situations, confident he should lead and be trusted. Remus wanted to earn respect and trust. Wanted it built on a solid foundation. His telling Remus he was important and needed wasn't enough; Remus had to see that he got there on his own. 

Sirius's nose began to run and he sniffed and wiped it with his sleeve. “Listen. One more hour. We'll give it a go for a little bit longer. If anything suspicious happens, anything at all, we'll stay. But if not, please, for the love of Merlin, can we go home?” 

Remus nodded and no sooner had their eyes met to confirm their agreement than a scream – a horrible, scream soaked in fear – ripped through the air. 

Sirius and Remus both turned and began running without hesitation in direction of the scream. Sirius pulled out his wand, ready for the attack. He turned down a narrow street and knew Remus was falling behind. He reached behind him for Remus's hand and felt him grab it. Sirius pulled him forward as they did their best not to slide on the slick cobblestone streets. 

There were more screams, and louder ones; they were getting closer. Sirius became acutely aware of his heart pounding in his chest but he did not have blood rushing in his ears. His hearing seemed to have become hyper-sensitive and he could hear Remus panting beside him. He heard every sharp breath he took, and maybe he even scented the sweat which was surely dampening his neck and brow. 

“This way,” Remus said and pulled Sirius down a narrow alley that Sirius hadn't seen. That was why Remus had been given this mission. He knew the area. He had the home-field advantage. 

They took two more quick turns and the sounds were becoming so loud that Sirius was surprised he could hear anything but screams. One more turn, and a scene which Sirius had never even imagined assaulted his eyes. 

Inferi, dozens, maybe a hundred Inferi, infecting the entire street. They grabbed and pulled and beat at every person in their path. Sirius could see more than one bloody mass, which was likely a human, left on the ground. He heard shouts and saw the sparks and lights of magic. Death Eaters, all masked and robed, were breaking into houses and forcing people out onto the street, sending them to their deaths one door at a time. 

Without thinking Sirius ran forward to the closest Inferius, which was set on a boy and his mother. He let out a guttural yell as he brandished his wand and sent flames shooting. He hit the accursed creature, setting its decayed clothes and rotted flesh on fire. The creature made no sound, which was weird. Sirius had always thought there would be a scream, at least. But Inferi weren't really alive, were they? 

Others recoiled away instinctually from the flaming mass and moved to the next person. Sirius yelled at the woman to run, to get away. He then turned back to the fight. He tried to take on the Inferi but there were too many and Muggles kept running and zig-zagging in his way so he couldn't always get a clear shot. 

He wanted to make a circle of fire to trap the Inferi but the Muggles wouldn't know it was a fire they could walk through. Then it would be more of a mess. 

Setting another two on fire, Sirius turned and looked for Remus. “Moony!” he called, but didn't get an answer. 

He turned the other way and saw Remus duelling with a Death Eater. Yes, that was it. Keep people in their houses and then they could deal what was left on the street. 

Sirius sent his Patronus to call for reinforcements and then turned and stunned the closest masked figure. Before Sirius stepped over the unconscious person and headed for the house currently being sacked, he thought for a moment that maybe he should unmask it, to see who it was. But no. No time to stop. 

He charged into the house and ran into a family clambering to get out. They screamed as he popped into the entry like a nightmarish jack-in-the-box. “I'm here to help,” Sirius said and they all screamed again. A spell shot over their heads and Sirius heard someone yell, “Move,” at them. 

Sirius pushed through the people, not about to use them as shields, then shot off a spell the moment he could. The Death Eater ducked just in time and then dove out of the entrance hall. Sirius turned and ran after him. 

He hit Sirius with a tripping jinx as he stepped into the room. Sirius caught himself with one hand and fired off a spell with his other, hitting the Death Eater in the chest. He screamed, which was the only way Sirius knew his spell had worked. With the mask, robes, and gloves he couldn't see if there were boils on his skin. 

He Disapparated before Sirius could get him again. He rose from the floor and shouted to the family still in the house, “Are there any more?” They all stared at him as if he were not speaking English. “Any more?” he demanded again. A teenager, not much younger than he himself was, pointed a shaking finger up the stairs. 

Sirius took the stairs two at a time and had just reached the first landing when a framed photograph exploded over his shoulder. Threw his hands over his head to shield it and felt glass and wood chunks bounce off his body. He dropped to the floor, anticipating another shot, and he'd been right. The next blast hit exactly where he had been standing but a moment before. 

He shot off a spell at the dark figure above him, but it moved away. Sirius stood and pressed himself to the wall as he moved up the next flight of stairs. He didn't hear the Death Eater moving around, but it was hard to hear with all the screams and shouts coming from outside. 

He silently stepped on the top landing, grateful the floorboards didn't creak. There was a room straight in front of him that was pitch black. He could see another down the corridor with light from the street pouring through the door. But between them he saw what was surely the loo and on the doorframe he saw a smear of blood. 

Sirius began to move more loudly, as if to make his way into the first room. He reached the threshold of the door, toed off his shoes, and quickly charmed them to walk down the corridor with heavy steps. Steps from the bathroom a green spell shot at where his head would have been. The shoes kept going, though. The Death Eater stuck his head out the door and Sirius pounced. He hit him with a curse that sent him stumbling to the railing. 

The Death Eater caught himself and turned to fire back at Sirius, but his struggle to stay upright made his aim poor and he missed by a great deal.

Sirius fired another spell and the Death Eater screamed and ripped his mask from his face. There was blood everywhere, it was pouring from his nose as if Sirius had turned on a faucet not hit him. 

The man coughed and spat and tried to fire another spell but couldn't. Sirius had had more than one broken nose in his life and knew they were agony. Sirius disarmed him and then with another flick of his wand tied the man up. “Aurors will come pick you up,” Sirius said, turning to go. He took one last look at the man's face but he had no idea who he was. As he bounded down the stairs, he didn't know if he was glad or disappointed it wasn't someone he was related to.

The family was still in the entrance hall as he came down the stairs. “What's going on?” the man demanded as Sirius pushed through them. 

“Stay inside,” Sirius said briskly, ready to enter another fight. He was out the door before he remembered. He turned on his heel and pointed his finger right in the man's face. “No one go upstairs. We'll pick him up later.” 

He didn't wait for a response but turned and ran for the next hooded figure. 

Order Members had arrived and the fighting had diminished slightly. Muggles still screamed in panic around him and he was almost tempted to stun them just so they would stay out of his way. 

He pushed through the crowd and shot flames from his wand as another wave of Inferi came down the street. The smell of roasted meat tickled his nose and he knew what it was: it was the smell of their bodies, burning. He turned and went the other way so he wouldn't vomit everywhere. 

The fight slowed, and finally, finally, the last Death Eater ran. The street looked like it was a war zone and all the Muggles were refugees. There were forty, fifty Muggles about? It would be a mess to clean up. 

Sirius began to look for Remus. “Moony!” he called through the crowd, but he heard no reply. “Moony!” he yelled again, but received only startled looks from victims. His blood still rushed and it was hard to think straight, and so it was easy for panic to set it. Remus had to be fine, though. He was a great dueller. Better than James. 

“Padfoot!” He whipped around and saw Remus descending the front steps of one house, supporting an elderly lady who had a bandage over her eye. 

Sirius trotted over to him. “You all right?” 

“Fine. You?” Remus asked. 

“Never better. Ministry's here. Let's take her over there and get out of here.” 

They walked her the few yards and left her in the hands of two Obliviators. 

“Think Dumbledore will want a report?” Remus asked as they walked away. He had a smear of ash across his sweaty face and Sirius could see the singe marks in his cloak. 

“I'm sure he will. Not now, though.” Sirius reached a hand out to Remus, and to his shock, it was shaking. 

Remus grabbed the hand, which was covered in blood; some of the glass from the exploding picture must have cut him. “Christ. Sirius. Are you sure you're fine?” 

“Doesn't hurt. It's not so bad.” 

“You're shaking.” Remus pulled him closer and looked into his eyes. 

“It's the adrenaline. I feel fine. I promise. Let's go. I want to go home.” There must have been the right amount of urgency and desperation in his voice because Remus didn't fuss over his hand or argue. 

They Apparated back in their flat and Remus strode immediately to grab some bandages. Sirius sat on the couch and let Remus tend his wound. He knew the potion to clean the cut must have stung, but he couldn't even feel it. His head, his body was still in the fight. It was singing with the action of it. 

His heart still thumped, his reflexes still felt nimble, and his blood ran hot. It was almost like he was outside himself and then Remus was standing and saying something about going to James's because he could heal a cut so much better. 

Sirius looked up at him. “Moony,” he said quietly, and Remus stopped talking. 

Sirius stood and grabbed Remus and pulled him into a kiss. Remus didn't ask what he was doing or protest in the slightest. He knew exactly what Sirius was doing and exactly what Sirius needed. 

They kissed and pulled each other's filthy clothes from their bodies. “Where are your shoes?” Remus asked as he pulled down Sirius's jeans. 

“Left them,” Sirius said, and pulled Remus back up for another kiss. He couldn't stand not to be kissing Remus. He wanted to feel his lean, warm body with his hands, taste his tongue and lips. He wanted to lick Remus's skin. Taste the salt and the musk and feel the rough hairs along Remus's jaw with his sensitive lips. 

He pushed Remus to the bed, holding him close, wanting to be encapsulated by him. He moved down Remus's body, thrilling at the way Remus arched into his mouth and threaded his fingers through Sirius's hair, holding on tightly. 

Sirius reached Remus's long, perfect cock and paused only briefly to run his tongue down the back of it. Remus sighed and thrust up, wanting more, but Sirius shook his head slightly. He loved sucking Remus's cock, but tonight he wanted something more. 

He pushed Remus's legs apart and brushed his lips against Remus's entrance. Remus inhaled sharply and moved away. They didn't do this often, but right now it was all Sirius wanted. 

“Please?” he whispered against Remus's body, and flicked his tongue across the sensitive skin on Remus's leg, right where his arse met his thigh. 

“God, yes,” Remus said with a moan and spread his legs wider. 

Sirius began with slow licks, his body still shaking, needing more, but he made himself be excruciatingly patient. Made himself take his time, drawing out each long, sensuous lick. Then Remus let out a deep groan when Sirius pressed his tongue hard and pushed in just a bit. He did it again, waited, then did it again. Remus thrust against his mouth and arched his back. Sirius pushed forward, pressing his shoulders to the back of Remus's thighs, and licked him aggressively. 

He couldn't go slowly anymore. He ate Remus eagerly and quickly. Let the heat of his body wash over his tongue, lips and cheeks. Remus rode his face, pulling his hair and crying out when Sirius pushed a finger into him. 

Sirius fucked Remus's arse with his tongue and finger, and the feel of it, the sound of it, the taste of it, was all so overwhelming that Sirius began to rub his cock as hard as he could against the bed. He needed to come. The way Remus keened and thrust made his blood rush all the more. He wedged his other hand between the bed and his hips and reached his cock. He wrapped his hand around it and came hard and fast in three strokes, all while he still licked Remus. 

He was sure he cried out and must have stopped what he was doing because when he came back to himself, he was no longer licking Remus's arse. 

Remus looked down the length of his body at Sirius. His lips were full and wet, and his eyes so wide that he looked absurdly innocent. Sirius smiled devilishly at him and said, “You now.” 

He moved up to Remus's cock and took it all the way into his mouth in one smooth stroke. He sucked Remus hard and it didn't take long; he was coming and crying out in less than a minute. Sirius swallowed and swallowed until every last drop was gone. 

He crawled up beside Remus, and Remus pulled him into his arms. He felt more sated and peaceful than he had in ages.  
It was different, though. Almost better.

He was no longer escaping detention or another lecture from McGonagall. It had become so much more than that. He had escaped death – not that he'd ever thought he'd die, he was far too skilled for that. Before tonight, the war, the Order – it had all been very boring. But now it was real and it made Sirius's blood rush.

He was certain he'd get hurt – already had if you counted his hand, which he didn't – and people would die, but this was the kind of thing, the kind of thrill he was born to live. 

If he could fight like this every night and then come home and get into bed with Remus afterwards with his body still electrified from the fight, then in seventy years he would die a happy man.


End file.
